There’s An Owl In My Tree

Avoiding the coyotes and the other things that creep and crawl upon the skin, in the darkness of the earth, he follows the whispers from the mountains. He follows them to the source. He sits there with the rain falling into his hand from the black sky above and cups it carefully, staring into the liquid. His crystal eye is full of passion for the Creative Powers. Where the old trees stand strong and the sandstone is red, he hides in the shadows. Where his bare feet wonder those ageless stone lands, silence bears full witness. This boy travels the desert, talks with the holy wind, and dreams of long ago. Yes, he will go the correct way. He will not die, but will see the vision of the old people.

There are places he goes that refuse to cast darkness about, he seeks the light of the yellow sun above. There, the mystery beings hide in the passing thunder clouds as they climb up over the painted hills.

Plant those tiny seeds in the Earth. She will care for them. She will help them grow. They will turn into the magical forms of life that sustain beauty. Their leaves will take in the wind. The laughter will startle you from the corn stalks in the small field at the edge of the mesa.

This is where a single cloud moves its shadow down off the red mesa into the silent and spacious.

The Ghost hides, but the crooked old woman can see it. Then she calls for her husband to come out and see it. He is also barely able to walk on tired feet. The Sky Father above can change, and the earth protects them. Old woman cries though, and the husband starts to pray. The ghost of the dead then fades away, back to the crossing.

Two worlds under this one sky come together. Show it respect. Do not tread on sacred ground. Back off. Do not trespass where the Creative Power forbids. Stand worthy to dream, and to walk in the beauty of it all, where you are allowed.

The days of today are still beautiful. The Creator is still happy. Forget the new world. The old one has always existed and will forever more. Time will not stop talking. Mother Earth is with the Holy Wind. We were given life from both. They are us! We are them.